


Magic, Gods, & Fate

by fallenstarsandfiredemons



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Magic, Other, Quests, Romance, True Love, legend of zelda-esque
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6566572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenstarsandfiredemons/pseuds/fallenstarsandfiredemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chosen by the gods, Killian sets forth on a quest to fulfill his destiny--defeating the Dark One and saving Misthaven--even if he would rather stay in his treehouse and leave the job to someone else. But the beautiful lady with the rusty old sword that calls herself his guide might just be the key to changing his mind, and his world. (Basically The Legend of Zelda OUAT style.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Hero's Journey

He’d been called the chosen one many times. In his land, it was the greatest honor, the highest prestige, to be handpicked by the gods to take on the fabled sword and fight the Dark One. It was called destiny. 

He didn’t want it.

He’d lived a simple life, been a simple boy grown into a simple man. He’d been raised alone in the forest, and there was nothing so wonderful as wiling away the hours amongst the leafy canopy, gazing at the sunset or tracing the line of the horizon, where the sky met the distant sea.

He’d always wanted to go there. The sea called to him, like a siren in his blood, sometimes he thought he heard its voice singing him to sleep, or waking him in the night with its cries for help.

He wanted to go to it, but he was held back. The trees kept him safe, he couldn’t leave their haven. He knew, like a strange premonition, that if he ever left the safety of the wood, he would never return. And it frightened him.

“Killian!”

He glanced down from his perch on the railing of his treehouse to see Tink waving at him. Tink was his only friend, the only one that was ever kind to him when he was different from the rest of the wood folk. 

He watched as Tink flew up to join him, shaking out her gossamer wings and landing gracefully on the smooth wooden planks of his home. Killian didn’t question his lack of wings, or the fact that he was so much taller and rougher than anyone else. He didn’t resent Tink for her ability to fly or wield magic. In spite of the comfort he found in his home, and the peace of the forest, a part of him, one that grew louder and louder with each passing spring, desired to see the rest of the world, and to know if there were others like him.

“It’s getting closer, isn’t it?” Tink peered out into the brush, the only view from this height.

“Aye.”

“I’ll miss you.” 

He smiled at her as she squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll miss you too.”

A tinkling laugh escaped her mouth as she waved a hand. “You won’t even notice. You’ll be too busy having adventures, fulfilling your destiny.”

“What is destiny? It sounds as if I’ll just be waving a sword around.”

Tink sighed. “You know all this. You were brought here from your land, to be protected by the fairies until you were old enough to fulfill your destiny. You were chosen, eons before your birth, to be the hero that defeats the Dark One and restores balance and peace to the land of the gods.”

“Misthaven,” he breathed. The name had been on the tip of his tongue, never far from his thoughts in the months since he’d been told of his fate. It was the land of his birth, the place out of time that was waiting for his return.

“Here,” Tink said, slipping a tiny, clear object into his hand. He held it up to the fading light of the sun.

“A bean? Wonderful. I’m sure that will help with whatever manner of beast I’m sure to run into.” Despite his sarcastic tone, he noticed that the bean was beautiful, like tiny rainbows had been captured in its miniscule form, just waiting to be released.

“It’s a magic bean. You can use it anytime you like to communicate with me. I have one too.” She held up another bean.

He gave a deep exhale. “How does it work then?”

“You just throw it on the ground. It will create a projection of me and we’ll be able to speak.”

His fingers closed around the bean. “Thank you, Tink.”

She patted his hand. “Good luck, and Gods go with you.”

/\  
/\/\

The day he left was bittersweet. He hugged Tink farewell and she merrily waved him off, following the beaten path that he’d hardly ever had occasion to use. He was almost afraid of where he would end up, but at the same time there was an almost gleeful flutter in his chest. He was finally going to his land. He was finally going to see his people. Would they accept him? Would he have friends? Perhaps he could find himself another treehouse, or better yet, a house by the sea. It was almost too much to hope for.

His first task was to find the sword. Tink had told him that once he pulled it from its resting place, all would become clear. 

According to legend, the sword could be found in a glade near a lake. Tink had estimated that he would arrive there in two days.

“You’ll be judged,” she said, glancing at him.

“Judged? By a sword?” This entire “quest” was becoming more preposterous by the minute.

She rolled her eyes. “The sword has to find you worthy. If you’re meant to wield it, it will break free of the seal that was placed on it years ago.”

“Oh, now there’s a seal, too? What next, a unicorn must bless me before I’m to go near it?”

She punched him in the arm, fighting back a grin. 

Remembering Tink’s words made him want to turn back, to stop this nonsense. Who cared for the world? He could live out his days happily in the forest. There was enough beauty there to last a lifetime. He would never know what he was missing in Misthaven and therefore would never have cause to miss it.

And yet…

And yet that part of him that leapt at the chance to make something of himself, to be something more than a simple man, was prepared to risk everything, to endure every trial if it meant he would know something beyond the familiar.

If he never had the chance to rest his eyes on the land of his birth, if he never took the chance to try and make it there, well, he would regret it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t spend the rest of his days wondering what might have been.

And that’s what kept him walking for two days, stopping only to rest when the stars came out. And when he finally saw the sparkle of the sun off the crystal clear water of the lake, he felt as if it had been worth it already.

Like a man starved, he dropped to his knees at the edge of the water, cupping his hands gazing into the perfect mirror therein. He splashed his face, letting his head fall back, relishing the sensation of the water running over his skin, down his neck, into his hair. 

He reached for more, this time drinking, and was surprised to find that it tasted sweet, like a spice he’d never heard or tasted before. 

He was going for his second drink when he heard a sound, like a flutter or rustle. Glancing up, he noticed a large white bird. It was extremely beautiful, with a long neck that sloped over in a perfect arch, and pristine feathers that seemed to glow from within, almost as if they were touched with moonlight.

He found himself transfixed by the bird as it swam closer, and he if he didn’t know better, he would swear it was watching him closely, like it was waiting for something.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d stood up and was bending over, bowing to the bird. He caught himself after a moment, gazing in amazement at the creature and wondering what had prompted such a reaction. The bird seemed unimpressed, continuing to watch him as it swam in slow circles near the shore.

He grabbed his supplies and started skirting the shore, keeping an eye on the bird which continued its-was it pacing? 

He shook his head and turned away, peering into the nearby trees that edged the lake, looking for the spot that Tink had said would mark the entrance to the glade. 

He realized after what felt like hours of searching, when the sun was high overhead, that he must be missing something crucial. He decided to put the magic bean to the test and contact Tink.

He fished it out of his pocket and, after a brief moment of hesitation, threw it to the ground.

A puff of misty smoke rose up, and a moment later Tink’s smiling face appeared. “Glad to see you figured out how to use the bean. What’s up?”

“You told me how, Tink. But that doesn’t matter. I can’t find the bloody entrance to the glade.”

Tink’s face grew thoughtful for a moment before she clapped her hands. “You need to make an offering to the guardian. The guardian has to be sure of your worthiness before you can be allowed to approach the sword.”

“Is it a unicorn then?”

“The legends don’t say. It could be anything. Look around you, what sort of creatures live in that area? I’d be willing to bet you’ll find your answer there.”

He realized almost immediately who to look for.

“Many thanks, Tink. I think I know exactly who the guardian is.”

She gave a little wave before disappearing.

Killian made his way back to where he had encountered the bird, and was relieved to find that it had stayed in the same area, almost as if it was waiting for him to realize what he should do. 

He approached the lakeshore, stopping inches from the gently lapping waves.

“I’m here to see the guardian.”

The bird’s head turned ever so slightly toward him as it continued to glide through the water.

“I was told that I’m meant to fulfill a great destiny, find some sword, and save a land from the Dark One.”

The bird continued to glide. Killian was growing more and more frustrated.

“Look, I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this. I’m just a man. I grew up amongst a people that I can’t even call my own, an outcast. I know nothing of the world beyond the borders of the forest, but I want to see my homeland. I want to know that I’m not alone, that I’m worthy of the world I was born into.”

The bird’s head had turned completely, the dark eyes regarding him. It tilted its head as it swam toward him, stopping mere feet away. He felt his body leaning forward unconsciously, bringing him closer and closer to the creature.

The bird dipped its head, and some alien part of him knew that it wanted him to kneel, so he did. He watched it’s face come closer as it stretched out its neck, touching his forehead ever so softly with the tip of its beak.

A shudder went through his whole body, not unpleasant, but…different, like he was suddenly made of mist and light.

The swan retreated and he watched as it resumed its pacing closer to the center of the lake. He stood and looked around, realizing that it was nearing evening.

A sparkle caught his eye, and he followed his feet, like a tether, to the source of the light, which didn’t appear to have a source.

He realized after he’d been walking for what felt like ages that it was magic, manifesting itself into a form that he could see. The bird had blessed him with vision. 

The path had led him into the trees, winding in and out down a nearly indiscernible path, with only the dying light of the sun to light his way as he followed the magic.

Until it disappeared and he was in a small clearing. The sun was just setting, the light shining its last over the treetops. It reminded him of home.

Just as the stories said, there was a sword sitting in the middle of the glade. He’d never actually seen a real sword before, but this one looked extremely old, and rusty. There was a beautiful green jewel set into the top, a little smaller than an egg. The hilt flared out, almost like wings. It was a slender sword, probably able to be wielded one handed if one had the strength, and despite its obvious age, it was beautiful.

He approached it slowly, knowing instinctively that this would be one of the most defining moments of his life. If he was judged worthy, he could go on to become the greatest hero of the land. If he was judged unworthy…well, he didn’t want to consider it.

He didn’t know what made a hero, or what being worthy meant. He only knew who he was and what he wanted, and surely that had to count for something?

He reached out and grasped the sword with both hands, took a deep breath, and pulled.

There was a flash of light, and for a moment he thought he felt someone standing near him, leaning into his side, sliding an arm around his waist, pressing lips to his cheek. He could smell something sweet, like the water he’d taken from the lake. It felt like bliss, and ecstasy, and happiness. He never wanted it to end.

But a moment later it did. And he was holding the sword. It fit perfectly to his hand, like it was made to be an extension of his arm.

He gazed at it for several minutes before realizing that night had fallen and the moon was casting light off the sword, making it dance in patterns and jumps across the grass.

He suddenly felt exhausted. It had been a long day, but he finally had the sword. He had been found worthy. He could go to Misthaven and perhaps become the hero he was foretold to be.

He didn’t remember falling asleep, but before he knew it his eyes had drifted shut and he’d slumped across the grass, clutching his treasure close.

/\  
/\/\

Birdsong and light woke Killian the next morning. He blinked his eyes open, yawning and stretching as he looked around the clearing. He’d glanced down at his sword before his head shot up and did a double take.

“I wondered when you would notice me,” the dry, feminine voice said.

There was a woman, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (although his experience in that area was rather limited) sitting a few feet away from him, plucking at the grass with long, graceful fingers. She wore a solid white dress with long trailing sleeves and a high neckline. Her hair, a pure gold, cascaded in waves down her shoulders. Her eyes were the color of the forest, a beautiful green dotted with gold, like sunlight shining through a canopy of leaves.

“Are you just going to gawk at me? We need to get going.”

He blinked a few times to make sure it wasn’t a dream. “Pardon.” His voice sounded rusty, like he hadn’t had water in days. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Pardon.” That sounded better. “Who are you? And where are we going?”

She rolled her eyes and rose to her feet. He found the gesture strangely charming.

She walked towards him and held her hand out. “I should think it was obvious. We’re going to Misthaven.”

He gripped her hand and let her pull him up. He was surprised when she didn’t immediately let go. “And what am I to call you, milady?”

She smiled, and he felt as if he was drowning, or falling, or soaring, all at once. 

“Call me Emma.”


	2. The Sword & The Swan

“Don’t drop the sword.”

Killian looked up from where he was fiddling with the aforementioned blade, attempting to find a place to attach it to his person.

Emma sighed and snapped her fingers, a sheath appearing out of thin air. She handed it to him. He noticed that it was very detailed, and appeared to be embroidered with...swans?

“You have magic?”

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.” She watched him slide the blade in the sheath. “Here,” she said, walking over and taking it from his hands. She produced a belt from thin air and attached the sword to it before placing it around his waist. He tried not to stare at her lips as she leaned in, but couldn’t help but notice the scent of her hair where it nearly brushed his chin. It was the same sweetly pungent aroma from when he’d pulled the sword.

“What is that scent?” He didn’t mean to let the question slip.

She finished her task and cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

He felt his cheeks grow pink under her gaze. “It’s what the water tasted like when I drank from the lake. And I could smell it when I pulled the sword free, and...and you smell like it too. It’s sweet.”

He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t her throwing her head back and laughing. He wanted to capture that sound, gentle but boisterous.

“It’s cinnamon. I’m surprised you’ve never heard of it.”

“Ah,” he said, trying to ignore how hard his heart pounded under her scrutiny. 

“Let’s be on our way then, Killian.”

“How do you know my name?” And why did it sound so much better on her lips?

She rolled her eyes again, and the gesture was no less attractive than if she had batted them. “I know a lot of things. I’ve been waiting around for you to arrive for ages.”

“Wait-you mean to say you’ve been here with the sword, for how long?”

She sighed and gestured him to walk with her. They kept a steady pace back towards the lake.

“I’m not sure exactly how long I’ve been here. After a while the days begin to blur together. I was sent to guard the sword until the chosen hero arrived. I’m bound to it. I can’t leave it until it’s task has been completed.”

“So then…”

“It looks like we’re stuck with each other.” He had no complaints about that arrangement.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, occasionally asking each other mundane questions or making comments about the scenery. When they finally came to the lake, Killian looked around for the swan, but the water was still and silent, and it seemed a little less clear and blue than it had when he first arrived.

“Where’s the guardian?”

Emma scoffed and glanced over at him. “I guess I overestimated your intelligence.”

At his puzzled expression she punched him lightly in the arm. “I was the swan.”

“But if you can turn into a swan, why didn’t you greet me as a human when I arrived?”

“It’s part of the conditions of my guarding the sword. I was to remain in that form until the blade was pulled and the seal broken. I suppose I should thank you for freeing me. I can’t say I enjoyed living off of bugs.”

“Eh, they’re not so bad if you cook them right.”

He rewarded her shocked look with a laugh. “Joking, Swan.”

“Swan?”

He felt his face flush again. “I guess it slipped out. Apologies.”

“No, I like it. It’s like a nickname. I’ve never had one before.”

He couldn’t help staring at her and wondering what her life had been like before, for her to end up here, stuck as a swan guarding a rusty old sword.

She sighed again and stopped to look around at their surroundings, hands on her hips. We need a faster way to travel. Unfortunately, I can’t conjure horses out of thin air.” She glanced at him. “Do you have a map?”

“Aye.” He pulled it out of his satchel and handed it to her, watching as she unfolded it delicately, her eyes scanning the weathered parchment, brow furrowed adorably in concentration. He wanted to reach out and smooth it away and had to physically restrain himself from doing so.

“Here, she said, crooking a finger at him for him to join her. He stepped over to stand close to her, trying to ignore the scent of cinnamon wafting from her hair as he tried to pay attention to what she was showing him. Her finger rested on the tiny drawing of the lake. “This is us. We need to go here.” She swept her finger across the map, stopping it at the area labeled Misthaven. “The closest village is a few miles, and it’s right at the foot of Death Mountain. This is perfect.”

“Death Mountain? Sounds like we should be avoiding it.”

She grinned. “Death Mountain is where the dwarves mine for fairy dust. They can probably forge you a shield imbued with it. It would be stronger than a normal shield. And they can fix up the sword so it’s not quite so...dilapidated.”

He glanced down at the blade. “I suppose that would be best.”

“And we’ll be able to get some decent food and drink. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve tasted something other than bug.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.”

She punched him in the shoulder and he feigned pain, grinning at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go, hero. The world awaits us.”

/\

/\/\

The Castle in Misthaven

The King of Misthaven sat on his throne, listening to his subjects’ complaints and grievances, part of his daily routine. He glanced at his wife where she sat nearby, and tried not to feel a pang at the empty throne on his other side, where his daughter would have sat, were she present.

Emma had been gone since...since he couldn’t even remember. It was as if time had frozen, though he knew that was impossible. The last he had seen of her she had agreed to guard the sacred sword until the chosen one came and pulled it from its resting place.

The Dark One had threatened Misthaven, seeking the treasure kept within its heart, threatening the royal family if they did not give it over to him. The King had sent his most trusted friends and allies to the far reaches of the land, tasked with keeping the kingdom’s sacred treasures safe and protecting their individual regions from the Dark One’s corruption. Emma had taken on the task of protecting the sword and guiding the hero on his journey until he was able to fulfill his destiny and destroy the Dark One. 

It all seemed so long ago, he had almost given up waiting for his daughter’s return and the hero’s arrival. The Dark One had retreated since then, biding his time no doubt until he sensed weakness in Misthaven. He had been infuriated that day Emma left with the others, striding into the throne room and throwing soldiers against the walls with a wave of his hands, shattering the tall glass windows and screaming and raging that he would kill everyone unless they told him where the treasure was. The King and Queen had kept one of their allies, skilled in magic, Regina, with them for protection. She was able to cast a temporary spell expelling the Dark One from the hall and before he could return, put up a barrier around the kingdom, so that none could enter nor leave. 

It would only be taken down when the hero returned. They were effectively trapped in their own home, waiting for their daughter to return, and for the hero to save them.

If only he knew when that would be, or if it was already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Next time, Killian and Emma encounter a strange fellow who wants to become a fairy. Who could it be???


	3. Delusions of Grandeur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day! This might never happen again so enjoy it while it lasts.

Killian and Emma had been walking for almost three days when they saw the balloon. He noticed it first, nudging her in the shoulder and pointing up.

It was a garish red thing bobbing up and down amongst the trees that lined the path they traced. Curious, they ventured further into the brush.

“What do you think it is?” Emma asked.

Killian shrugged. “I’ve no clue. I’ve never seen anything like it. Besides,” he said, shuffling closer to her and leaning down next to her ear, “I thought you knew everything.”

She gave him a look and opened her mouth to reply when a shout interrupted them. They sped up towards the sound, emerging in a tiny clearing and looking around. 

“Oi! Up here!”

They glanced up to see a man hanging from the trees. The balloon was still bobbing up and down, somehow stuck to the top of the tree while the man attached to it hung from the branches, his limbs dangling as he struggled to break free.

His eyes lit up as they approached him.

“Please, sir and missus, help a poor bloke out. I’m begging ye!”

Emma smirked and glanced at Killian before waving her hand. The man was enveloped in a puff of silver smoke and reappeared in front of them. He looked to be in complete shock for a moment before his expression took on a reverent quality and he grabbed Emma’s hand, pumping it up and down.

“Ye must be a fairy! Please Missus Fairy, please make me one of your kind!”

Killian pulled Emma away from him, earning a look of surprise from the blonde. She didn’t pull away though, letting him rest his arm around her waist.

“Who are you?” he asked the strange man. He noticed that he was probably what was considered a handsome fellow, with close cropped hair and brown eyes, well-muscled arms and a solid build. 

The man bowed, making a show of it and glancing up at Emma to see if she approved. To Killian’s delight, her expression remained unimpressed.

“Me name’s Will Scarlet. I’m a travelin’ map-maker and adventurer of sorts, but I’ve dreams of becomin’ one of the fairy folk. I’ve never met one before now. If I may say missus, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

Emma smiled and Killian’s arm tightened around her waist. “Flattering as that is, I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not a fairy, just a human blessed with magic.”

“Bugger me. Can ye bless me, then?” Before she could reply, he got on his knees and bowed his head, waiting.

“Uh…” She exchanged a look with Killian, who shrugged. 

“How about I make you a knight of the realm? Killian, give me the sword, please.”

“You can knight him?” he murmured as he unsheathed the sword, carefully placing it in her hands.

She shrugged. “Probably.” She turned to address Will. “Do you promise to give your life to the protection of Misthaven and its royal family, to do good deeds for all you meet, and to uphold the sacred values of the Gods?”

“I do,” he said so solemnly Killian had to bite back a laugh.

Emma tapped the sword on each of his shoulders. “Then I hereby dub thee Sir Will Scarlet, the Wondrous.”

“Wondrous?” Killian muttered, earning an elbow to the gut.

Will rose, grinning. “I don’t feel any different, but thank ye all the same missus.”

“You’re welcome,” Emma said, handing the sword back to Killian. “Might we trouble you for your assistance, Will?”

“Anything for you, missus.” Killian resisted the urge to wipe the dopey look off his face.

“You mentioned you’re a mapmaker. Could we trouble you for a map? I believe ours might be a bit outdated.”

“Of course.” He pulled off his rucksack and started rummaging through it, opening and closing rolled up parchments until he came across the one he wanted. He handed it to Emma with a flourish.

“Thank you.” She opened it. “This is very well done.”

Will preened at her praise and Killian rolled his eyes. “This is me best work. As ye can see, I’ve illustrated everythin’.”

Emma glanced up. “Is it charmed?”

Will scratched his head and grinned. “I thought ye might notice. I bought a charm off a travelin’ merchant and added it to the map. You’ll always know which way you’re goin’.”

“A built-in compass,” Emma murmured, “clever.”

If it were possible, Will seemed to puff up even more.

“Shouldn’t we be on our way? It’s getting close to nightfall. We need to find a place to set up camp.”

Emma didn’t glance up. “Cool your heels. We’ll make it.”

“If ye don’t mind my asking,” Will started, “whereabouts are ye headed?”

Killian gave him a look that said he did mind but Will ignored him.

Emma finally looked up from the map. “We’re on our way to Misthaven, but we’ll be making a few stops along the way.”

Killian turned to her. “A few stops? You didn’t mention that.”

“Fairies have special fairy secrets, mate.” Killian glared at him.

Emma waved them both off. “No, he’s right. I should have said something before. We need to gather some items before we go to Misthaven.”

Killian’s brows rose. “Items?” He drew out the word slowly.

Rolling her eyes, Emma rolled up the map and stuffed it in his satchel. “Don’t worry about it. Just trust me.”

He did, strangely enough. He’d only known the woman a few days and yet he thought he would gladly leap into an inferno if she asked it of him. 

“What we need is a faster way to travel.”

“Why don’t ye just poof yourselves where ye need to be like you did with me?” Will asked.

Killian wished he’d noticed but the man was right. Emma did have magic. Even if she couldn’t conjure horses out of thin air, surely she could teleport them to their destination.

Emma sighed. “It’s not that simple. I haven’t been able to do magic since...well, since I’ve been busy with other things.” She glanced at Killian meaningfully. “I can conjure inanimate objects out of thin air and I could teleport you to the ground but those are small things. I’m not strong enough right now to transport myself let alone someone else a far distance. And…” She trailed off.

“And?”

She bit her lip and glanced around, looking at Will a bit suspiciously. He held up his hands. “Ye can trust me, missus.”

“Fine.” She lowered her voice and gestured for them to come closer. They huddled together and Killian wished more than anything that Will wasn’t there to ruin the moment while he was that close to Emma.

“I think that I need to be careful just how much magic I use. Small things are fine, in moderation. But magic is like a beacon. Other magical beings can sense it. The stronger they are, the easier it is.”

Killian figured out what she was trying to say. “You think the Dark One can find us if you use magic.”

She nodded, her eyes troubled. “We need to be careful. If he knows you have the sword, and that I’m with you, things could end very badly before they’ve even begun.”

“But I thought I could defeat him with the sword?” Killian unconsciously rubbed his palm against the cool pommel, wondering what else he would have to do before he was worthy of conquering his enemy.

“You can, but we need the items I mentioned before. We have to imbue the sword with their power. You also need a shield and someone to train you, which I suppose will fall to me.”

“You know how to wield a sword? But you have magic.”

“Magic isn’t always the answer. And it always comes with a price.” She said the last words with a bitter tone and twist of her lips, like she’d tasted something disagreeable.

There was silence for several moments, as they all took in her words. Will was the one to break it.

“D’ya think ye can get me balloon out of the tree?”

Emma nodded and snapped her fingers. A moment later the balloon appeared on the forest floor, intact, bobbing slowly up and down.

“Many thanks, missus. I suppose I’ll be seein’ ye.”

“I suppose so. Can we trust you to keep our presence secret, Will?”

He nodded solemnly and Killian somehow knew that he would.

“Where will you go?” he asked, watching the other man gather up his things.

Will shrugged. “I’m a wanderer. Always have been, always will be. It suits me. I’ll go where the wind blows me balloon.”

"Say, Will, if you're looking for fairies, I might know just the place for you to go."

Will glanced up. "Really? Actual fairies?"

Killian smiled. "Aye. I come from the place where they live."

Will looked him up and down. "Sorry to break it to ye but ye ain't a fairy mate."

Killian resisted the urge to punch him and instead settled with rolling his eyes. "Obviously. I just grew up among them. One of them is my friend. Her name is Tink. She'll surely welcome you there." Or he would be getting a very irate message through the bean later.

Will seemed to mull it over before nodding. He pulled out a map and handed it along with a piece of charcoal to Killian. "Mark the path. We're right here." Killian did as he asked and handed it back to him. Will glanced at it before rolling it up and stuffing it in his sack.

"We'll wish you well then," Emma said, "and safe travels. Thank you for your help."

“And you as well.” He tied himself to the balloon and tapped it once. Killian, watched, a little amazed, as it slowly drifted up, taking Will with it.

He grinned down at them. “Perhaps we’ll meet again, sir and missus. Be careful out there. It’s a dangerous world.”

They watched as he drifted further and further away, moving with the breeze.

Killian glanced at Emma and was momentarily arrested by the wistful expression on her face. He touched her shoulder and she turned, smiling at him. 

“I envy him a bit.”

“Aye.”

She patted his hand on her shoulder before striding off. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she grinned. “Aren’t you coming?”  
He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head and following, feeling the anxiety that had plagued him since he’d left his treehouse slowly seeping away a little more with each passing dawn since he’d met Emma.


	4. Stormbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian and Emma arrive at the foot of Death Mountain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't forgotten about this story. This latest installment was going to be longer but I like to keep the chapter lengths about the same so you can think of this chapter as part one of this next bit.

“Killian, hand me the map, would you?”

“If you’re looking for the mountain, I think we’ve found it, love,” Killian said, handing over the rolled up map they’d procured from Will.

They stood at the foot of Death Mountain, home of the dwarves. Well, they stood  _ near _ the foot. The rough reddish brown rocks were clearly visible through the foliage of the vast forest. Killian estimated that it was about a mile or two away.

“Ah-ha!” Emma jabbed a finger at a tiny illustration of a village seated right beneath the picture of the mountain. “I thought there was a village nearby. We can stop there for the night and start the climb the morning after.”

“Thank the gods. Not sure how much longer I could stand sleeping on the ground.”

Her lips twitched. “I’m surprised you hate roughing it. Didn’t you live in a tree house?”

Faking offense, he plastered a hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know my tree house was very well insulated and comfy.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving the map at him and walking away. He jogged to catch up with her. “What’s the name of this village, love?”

“Kakariko.”

Rolling it around on his tongue, he glanced ahead of them, noticing the tips of spires, or towers--perhaps lookout towers--that peaked over the edge of the line of trees blocking their view of the mountain.

The name sounded vaguely familiar, like something he’d heard once, maybe twice in his entire life, perhaps in a passing conversation between him and Tink or the Elder Tree. 

“Have you ever been to Kakariko?” He thought Emma, knowledgeable as she seemed to be, might have an answer to his dilemma. 

She shook her head, picking up her skirt to step over a small branch in the middle of the path. “I’ve only heard of it. It’s the place where many people are buried.”

“Even in Misthaven?”

“Well, not now. Not since…” She trailed off, glancing at him before shaking her head. “It’s a sacred place. They say the gods touched it with special magic, and many people think that if they are buried there they will find peace in the afterlife.”

Killian ground to a halt. “That’s it.”

“What?”

He grabbed her arm. “I was trying to remember where I’d heard of Kakariko. It’s the place with the graveyard.” he said excitedly.

“Yes,” she said slowly, “what of it?”

“In the stories I heard, supposedly the dead come to life there.”

Emma stared at him for a moment. Before he could say anything else her head fell back and a glorious sound spilled from her lips. 

Killian pulled away and crossed his arms. “Well, Swan, how farfetched can it really be? If fairies are real, if gods do indeed exist, if you have magic and I’m some bloody chosen hero, why would the dead rising be so laughable?”

Emma finally stopped laughing, wiping at the tears that had formed at the corners of her eyes. “Because, Killian, magic can’t bring back the dead. Nothing can except perhaps the gods and they wouldn’t do that.”

“Why the bloody hell not?”

“Think about it. People live and they die. No one in this world is immortal except the Dark One and he is an abomination. Mortality is necessary. Death is necessary in order to keep the balance. That’s part of the reason why you, why we, have to defeat the Dark One.”

He thought it over. It made sense. He didn’t think he would want to live forever to see those he loved die and the seasons change again and again. It seemed like a lonely existence. 

“How did the Dark One obtain such a power?”

Her face seemed to cloud over, green eyes darkening from jade to moss. “He took something that was not meant for him and then turned it into something dark and twisted.”

_ And how does one combat such a power? _ That had been one of the most fundamental questions of his life. From the time when he was just a lad, the fairies--mainly Tink--had told him of the legend of the hero who would wield the sacred sword and defeat the greatest evil the land had ever seen. And he’d accepted it, to an extent, but as he grew older and gained a little perspective, he’d wondered about just what he would be facing, and  if it was the greatest evil, how in the world could one man accomplish such a feat?

/\

/\/\

The town was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Not that he’d seen much, but that fact didn’t negate the impressiveness of the structures built around and into the mountain face. Flowers were set out in front of most buildings, cottages and businesses alike. And the people. He’d never seen so many people. They were everywhere, it seemed, but when he mentioned this to Emma she only laughed and told him the capitol was much busier. 

But there was something strange about Kakariko, as it turned out. After speaking with a couple of the townspeople, inquiring about passage up the mountain, they received odd answers.

“No passages right now. The storm will knock you over.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “What storm? It’s a perfectly clear day.”

The man, a large, mustachioed fellow, laughed. “You’re new. You’ll see. We’ve been having storms for the past few weeks, every day, at random times. Passage up the mountain is impossible right now without any guarantees about the weather.”

“What’s causing the storms?”

The man held up his hands, shaking his head. “No one knows. But if I had to take a guess it’s got something to do with whatever is going on up on the mountain.”

Looking more alarmed than he had ever seen her, Emma latched onto the man’s arm. “What’s happening on the mountain?”

Prying his arm away, the man straightened his collar. “The dwarves have stopped speaking with us. We used to trade with them, don’t you know, but now they won’t have anything to do with us. It’s been a nightmare on our businesses not to mention the touristry.”

“That is concerning.” Emma looked thoughtful as the man walked off to speak with someone else. 

“Do you know the dwarves, personally?” Killian asked.

She nodded. “I know a few of them. They come to Misthaven occasionally to show their wares to the royal family.” She pointed to his blade. “The sword you’re carrying was forged by dwarves.”

He rubbed a hand over the pommel. “If we can make it up the mountain, do you think they would speak with us?”

She shrugged. “I can’t say for sure, but I would hope so. But before we find out, we need to stop the storms.”

“And how do you propose we do that? That man seemed to think the source was coming from the mountain.”

Rubbing her neck, Emma began pacing. “I don’t think it is. Dwarves don’t have magic.”

“Could it be a sorcerer?”

She stopped in front of him, frowning at the mountain that loomed tall before them. “It could be, but whoever it is, I don’t think it’s intentional.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The man said it was random. And I just have a feeling, I suppose.”

“A feeling?” He lifted a brow.

Crossing her arms, she stared him down. “Yes. A feeling. Do you trust me?”

He gazed at her for a long moment before giving a long, dramatic sigh. “Despite my misgivings about this entire situation,” he said, waving a hand to encompass the village and the mountain, “I do trust you. You’ve yet to steer me wrong.”

The grin that broke out over her face was enough to make him think he would always agree with everything she said if she looked at him like that. Green eyes crinkling at the corners, she reached up and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. “Thank you, Killian.”

He felt the skin of his cheek, feeling a foolish grin spread over his face. “You’re welcome, Swan.” 

She laughed and grabbed his hand. “Now let’s go find the source of the storms.”

“As you wish.”

/\

/\/\

It took most of the day, and they were interrupted by a light sprinkle that quickly became a thunderstorm of epic proportions, forcing them to flee to the safety of an inn until it had passed over. The groans and sighs of the townspeople told them how commonplace such occurrences had become.

While they stood in the lobby of the inn with others avoiding the rain, Killian spotted the girl standing by the window, gazing wistfully out and clutching something around her neck. He nudged Emma and gestured to the girl. They exchanged a look and walked over to her, introducing themselves.

Her smile didn’t quite reach her bright blue eyes. “I’m Anna.”

“If you don’t mind my forwardness, Anna, you seem upset, and perhaps not about the weather,” Emma said, waving toward the window.

“Ah, you noticed that?” Anna laughed lightly, but Killian could tell her heart wasn’t in it.

“What’s wrong?”

Anna glanced between them for a moment, clutching her necklace which Killian could now see was in the shape of snowflake. “You seem like nice people. Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Ithinkmysisteriscausingthestorms.”

Killian turned to Emma. “Did you get any of that?”

“Not a word. What did you say, Anna?”

“Sorry, sometimes I get excited and talk to fast if especially if I’m nervous and you guys are kind of intimidating and it’s been a long few weeks and-”

Emma held up a hand. “It’s alright.”

Anna exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment, before looking at them, her expression solemn. “I think my sister is causing these storms.”

“Is you sister a sorceress?”

Anna started to shake her head, but then nodded. “Yes and no. I mean, she’s not a bad sorceress or anything, but she does have powers and she can’t always control them so…”

“Where is your sister?” Killian asked, glancing out the window. The clouds were beginning to dissipate. It really was an unusual storm, there and gone in what seemed almost an instant.

Clutching her necklace, Anna shook her head. “I don’t know. She disappeared a few weeks ago, right around the time the storms started.”

Emma put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Did something happen that made her disappear?”

“Well, she did read our mother’s diary. I found it in her room the day she disappeared. I think something in it upset her, but I don’t know what. The pages had been ripped out.”

Looking thoughtful, Emma gestured to her necklace. “Did your sister give you that?”

“Yes, it was a birthday present.”

Killian glanced at Emma. “What are you thinking, love?”

“I’m thinking I can use the necklace to find your sister, Anna.”

Anna’s entire face lit up. “Really? Thank you!” She threw herself at Emma, squeezing her. Emma looked startled for a moment before she gingerly patted the younger woman’s shoulder.

“It’s no trouble.” She pulled away and gave Anna an encouraging smile. “Now, how about we go find your sister?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Killian, Emma, and Anna find the source of the storms...


End file.
